| As I was walking through London, from Wapping to Ratcliffe Highway
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| I chanced to go into a whorehouse, to spend a long night and a day
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| A young doxy came rolling up to me and asked if I’d money to sport
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| For some of her time changed a guinea, and she quickly replied «That's the sort»
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| When the money was laid on the table, with a sleight of her hand it was gone
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| When I asked her the change from that guinea she tipped me a verse of her song
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| This lady flew into a passion and placed both her hands on her hips
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| Saying «Sailor don’t you know our fashion, do you think you’re on one of your
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| ships?»
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| I said «Is this your fashion to rob me, sich a fashion I’ll never abide
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| So give me the change of my guinea or else I’ll give you a broadside»
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| Then I put my old knife to her white throat and for my change her life did I
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| take
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| And down the stairs I run nimbly, saying «Damn my old boots I’m well paid»
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| The night being dark in my favour, to the river I quickly did creep
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| And I jumped in a boat bound for Deptford and got safe aboard of my ship
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| And it seemed that the Devil within me had opened a dark doorway to hell
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| For the spirit of killing was in me and the others didn’t live long to tell
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| So come all you bold young sailors that ramble down Ratcliffe Highway
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| If by chance you go into bawd house, beware lads how long you do stay
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| For the wine and the women invite you, and your heart will be all in rage
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| If you give them a guinea for a tumble, you can go to the Devil for your change |